Page:Old Melbourne Memories.djvu/274

Though corses choke the narrow way,
Still swarms the demon hive;
Like a tolling bell each heart will say
"We ne'er go forth alive!"

Undaunted still—the leaden rain
Slacks not one moment's space—
With a crashing bullet through his brain,
The boy drops on his face!

With outstretched arms, with death-clutched hands,
His mother's darling lies,
No more, till rent the grave's dark bands,
To glad her loving eyes.

Gone the last hope! faint gleam of light—
Death stalks before their eyes—
While yells and screams of wild delight
From the frenzied crowd arise.

O God of mercy! can it be?
It is a hideous dream—
No!—nearer rolls the human sea,
Arms flash, and eyeballs gleam.

He thinks of her, pale, tender, fair—
To nameless tortures given,
Gore-stained and soiled the bright brown hair—
His very soul is riven.

He lifts the weapon. Did he think
Of a happy summer time—
Of the village meadow—river brink,
Of the merry wedding chime?